The Journey

Dawn had just broken, and the sunglow was painted all over the serene sky to announce the start of a fresh new day. As far as we could see, everything was tranquil, and all was peaceful. There was no sound to be heard except for the regular “clip-clop” of the horses’ hooves on the dusty ground. There were brick towers standing high above us, but I didn’t pay them much attention. As I gaze up at the sky, I glimpse a dove sailing gaily through the clouds. We were on a journey from our familiar Persia to a mysterious land – Chang’an, China.
“Shipp!” an arrow broke the silence. I pulled on the reins sharply, and the horses trotted to a halt. I bent down and picked the arrow up. There was no message, nothing inscribed on it, and the tip was sharp and gleamed red. Poison. The word alone sent shivers down my spine. There was no cure for poison, none at all. I pulled the net down and continued.
More arrows rained down upon us. My men behind started panicking. Nervously, I cracked the whip, and the horses galloped faster. Everyone could see unfriendly
faces peering out from the watchtowers that towered above us, glaring. I tugged on the reins again. “Get the goods!” I hollered to my men. We had brought loads of goods along to trade with the local Chinese. We had brought water clocks from Egypt, rugs from our homeland Persia, books from Denmark... According to my father, Marco Polo had once traveled on this same path as I am on now. He called it the “Silk Road”. One of my friends had been to China before – and pronounced it a prosperous country.
The shriek of a man brought me back from my dreams. “A man has been shot!” Jamal, the physician of our troupe, hurried through the caravans.
The next few weeks went by peacefully. I was beginning to think that we had left the dangers far behind. It was a beautiful morning, in which the sun was rising amid a patch of rose and azure and turquoise and lilac. The light breeze fluttered over the treetops, through the leaves and onto our cheeks. Shooting out of the blue came another caravan, charging towards us. They all had blonde hair and their eyes sunk into their sockets. They bellowed something in a foreign language and one man lifted his forefinger to his lips, crossed both his arms in an “X” and drew his right arm across his neck. It didn’t look good. Everyone quietened down. My heart was leaping and my palms were clammy. They strode over and opened the canopy. The goods were in plain sight. Their eyes gleamed with greed and lunged for the goods. At that split second, my men jumped up and started stabbing the robbers with some daggers. At that, I remembered a book I had once seen from China. picture of a man in a book, fighting. I imitated him and made my hand go in a snake-like shape, kneeled down on one foot and tilted my head up. To my surprise, the robbers froze for a second. As if on cue, they all dropped their weapons, leapt upon their caravan and fled. I was a bit puzzled. What was that I did? Was it Kungfu or what? How come it scared the robbers away? Any way, it would be something from China. Three cheers for China! I put that out of my mind for a second and started scanning the caravans. At least none of our booty was robbed. Everyone hoped that the goods would pay well in China.
A couple of weeks later, the men had huge black lumps on their armpits and
necks. Since Jamal had been killed in the bloodbath, nobody knew what it was. Dozens of my men had already died of it, and dozens more were sick. I could only stand and watch helplessly while my men died, one after another. I had lost all hope of reaching that faraway place – what was it called? I could only fight back tears and bury the lifeless bodies with their blank staring eyes next to the path as a monument of the hardships on the way to the China.
One fateful day, we saw a winding jagged wall coming nearer and nearer to us. Finally, we have reached our destination! There was the rock-paved wall with all those towers coming towards us from the horizon and us hurrahing and cheering. The soldiers, standing bold and tall at the gates, glanced at our permission slip and waved us in. We were into the flourishing city in a moment! How exciting everything seemed to us! As far as the eye could see, there were brick-paved streets and carts of goods pulled by horses.
On the market day, we hurried to the square and put up our goods. We saw a
large character on the wall, “唐”.After what seemed like a century, people started
coming along. Some wealthy people traded 50 yards of silk with us just for a water
clock! And then, a burly man offered to trade 600 bales of ceramics and 500 bolts of silk, so we gave him some myrrh, glass, furs and gemstones. How glad he was! A
lot of people were interested in our books and bought some, even though the
letters didn’t mean anything to them. We put up our newly painted ostrich eggs and immediately some women and children bustled over. They traded them with some ceramic plates for their children. This has been the best day of my life!
Of course, if the men hadn’t died in the bloodbath with the robbers, they might have seen this wonderful day. I wonder if the world would ever be peaceful. I glimpse a dove sailing through the sky, coming to rest on a tree branch. One day perhaps there would be no fighting. One day.